


phoenix feathers

by screechfox



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sense8 (TV) Fusion, F/F, Ficlet, Secret Santa Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21746062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: “You’re dead, Agnes,” Gertrude says when she sees that flicker of red hair appear in her vision.[Sense8 AU; Gertrude gives birth to a cluster.]
Relationships: Agnes Montague/Gertrude Robinson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2019





	phoenix feathers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prim_the_Amazing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/gifts).



“You’re dead, Agnes,” Gertrude says when she sees that flicker of red hair appear in her vision.

Waves of agony shudder through her body with every breath she takes. She will be very glad when this whole affair is done with, and she can finally rest.

“But still here.” Agnes places one hand on Gertrude’s heaving chest, right above her heart. The warmth of her touch, however imagined, is soothing. “That’s not so unbelievable, is it?”

“I could be hallucinating.”

“You know you’re not.”

“Yes,” Gertrude admits, with a reluctant smile. “I know.”

Agnes smiles back, just as beautiful as she was when she was alive. The youthful flush of her face is a balm. Gertrude misses the naivety of the years they spent dancing around each other, bound together by their anger and passion. They hated each other as much as they loved each other, and the world seemed to burn when they were in each other's presence.

In hindsight, it could never last. The world is far too messy for uncomplicated joys — it loves to snuff out their flames.

“What's it like?” Agnes asks, her voice soft.

Gertrude links her fingers with Agnes'. She's so very young.

“It doesn’t hurt as much as I’d thought it would,” Gertrude lies. 

There is a cacophony of sight and sound erupting across Gertrude’s being. It's the worst kind of sensory overload — eight unborn souls occupying her own as she pushes them to wake. She feels everything they feel, and she watches them all in the confusion of their awakening. She doesn’t pretend to recognise them or their locations, except— she knows those dark shelves and green walls.

“Elias has one of them already,” she murmurs, half-lucid and horrified. She only realises her mistake when she hears a low chuckle over her shoulder.

“Do I now? That should make things easier.”

Elias smiles as she meets his gaze, utterly insincere. He seems casual but for the gun clutched loosely in one hand. He tilts his head, feigning contemplation.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble to hide, you know. I’m not Peter.”

“No,” Gertrude gets out, grasping tighter at Agnes’ hand — so warm against Gertrude’s cold skin. One way or another, this is where she dies. “Peter Lukas is a spoiled child. You’re much worse.”

“Come now, Gertrude.”

“You aren’t going to convince me that we’re on the same side. So if you’re going to shoot me—”

There’s a bang. The red spreading across the floor is the same colour as Agnes’ hair.


End file.
